


Life In A Bubble

by Elayna



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Don't copy to another site, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Pandemics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29882850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elayna/pseuds/Elayna
Summary: Two men meet at an animal shelter at the start of a pandemic, both looking for pets.Basically, two guys hanging around and getting to know each other during a weird period of high stress and low activity.
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57
Collections: Romancing McShep 2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being a bit of an AU of my own [woobie 'verse](https://archiveofourown.org/series/7573). I hadn't intended that, and I fought it a couple of times, but I surrendered. Written as part of the Romancing McShep Reverse Art Fest, inspired by Brumeier's [excellent art](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Romancing_McShep_2021/works/29882604) and also the 17th picture in [this post](https://cheezburger.com/12192517/meet-the-newly-adopted-faces-of-the-week-31-images-4-vids) on icanhazcheezburger. 
> 
> Also very much inspired by the events of 2020 as I lived them, which means regular references to the pandemic, though from a protected bubble in suburbia. This much reality may not be everyone's cup of tea. This is my fourth fic dealing with the pandemic/a quarantine in the last year and hopefully my last. I'm ready for all of us to move onto better times. 
> 
> To my mind, the events of the Stargate series happened 15 years later, so where John and Rodney were in their lives in 2005 is roughly where they are in 2020, with a few critical changes in their decision-making.

Bliss. Perfect bliss.

If anything wonderful could come out of this dreadful time, this moment was it.

Rodney took a last, deep breath and opened his eyes, tapping on the tablet, double checking his information, name, address, prior pet ownership experience, household environment for a new pet, finding everything accurate as he had typed it in on the website for the city animal shelter. The tabby cat about-to-be-his continued to rest across his shoulders, purring and softly making air biscuits with her front paws. His expectations had been low when he'd filled out the application and made an appointment with the shelter, only knowing that if he had to spend another moment in his house with no other living being around, he'd go mad. Thankfully, his expectations had been more than surpassed; this cat was perfection.

If he'd mentioned his loneliness to his sister, she would have been cruel in that way she pretended was kind. He should have a wife and kids, that would solve his problem. She had a husband and a daughter and she was the younger sibling, she'd done these things before him. He'd grow old, lonely, decrepit, and unloved if he didn't get out and find someone who could tolerate him. As if there was anywhere he could go to meet anyone during a pandemic. Dating had always been difficult for him; he couldn't imagine trying it over Zoom. 

Even his sister might be impressed by how quickly this cat had gotten attached to Rodney. The gloved and masked volunteer had left him waiting in a small room and put the cat inside, quickly shutting the door so that the two humans never got within six feet of each other. Rodney had kneeled on the floor, reaching out one hand and making encouraging noises. To his shock and delight, the cat had walked right over, rolling onto her back on the tile, purring as Rodney caressed her belly.

The biggest surprise was when he tried to stand and pick her up at the same time. Tiny claws had dug into his arm, climbing up until she could drape herself comfortably over his broad shoulders, purring loudly. His attempts to pull her off were unsuccessful, and since the shelter was mostly deserted, Rodney had let her stay as he walked to the counter in the lobby to grab a tablet and complete his application.

"Wow, that's pretty amazing," a man's voice said, and Rodney glanced over to see a slim figure appraising him from several feet away. "Are you just adopting that cat?"

The man's green eyes were beautiful, almost the emerald of his polo shirt. He didn't have a proper mask but the blue paisley bandana sufficiently covered his nose and mouth. No matter what his sister said, Rodney wasn't a hypochondriac, but he did have pre-existing conditions, both high blood pressure and allergies. Noting when people were properly attired for protection against covid was a sensible habit. So many people were still treating the pandemic with disbelief, as if the deaths in New York could never reach California.

Rodney beamed, feeling the delicious warmth of happiness, conscious that the stranger couldn't see his smile, only his eyes. This cat loved him and this total stranger with beautiful eyes thought it was cool. At least one decent moment was happening in this hellish existence and someone was sharing it with him. "She came right up to me and climbed up here."

John smiled behind his bandana. Being at the shelter was his first time around people in two weeks. Knowing that John was having to take a variety of flights to get back to the states from Antarctica, his brother had badgered him to quarantine in his house, even though the government didn't require it. Dave lived close to New York, had seen first hand how bad the virus could be, and John had promised his brother to take it seriously. John never minded taking risks for himself, but it was a different matter when other people were involved.

If he hadn't allowed himself one morning run every day, well before lights were on in most houses, John thought he might have gone quietly insane with the loneliness and isolation of his self-imposed quarantine. Exercise always helped his head. He'd never thought of himself as much of a people person, but then people had always been around. Even McMurdo felt like being in the middle of a busy mall compared to being alone in his own house.

Few people were in the shelter, and everyone was wearing masks, covering half of their faces. Not being able to see facial expressions was disconcerting, but this fellow had beautiful blue eyes that were shining with his happiness. John found his obvious excitement soothing. At least venturing out of his house had brought him around one happy person today. "Definitely cool."

One of the volunteers was filming the fellow and the purring cat, though John wasn't sure if blue eyes realized. People were crazy about filming everything these days. It might make a good snippet for a promotional video for the shelter, he supposed. John was jealous of his mask, a cloth one made from a dark blue fabric with stars scattered on it.

Rodney froze as a volunteer approached green eyes with a golden dog with a white underbelly on a leash. "Is that a pit bull?"

"He's a mix, but probably has some Staffordshire Terrier in him," John answered, catching the end of the leash close to the dog's neck as the volunteer dropped the end and stepped away. "Hey, she's—"

Rodney had reached back, catching hold of his new cat, but she seemed undisturbed by the close proximity of a dog, content to remain on her perch. "She's what?"

"She seems okay but she's definitely giving me a look."

"What kind of a look?" Rodney asked, craning his head around, trying to get a good view of her face.

"Like she's cautious but not afraid." John dropped to one knee, ruffling the short fur around his dog's neck. "They said you were good with cats, didn't they? Yeah, good puddle jumper."

Rodney suddenly understood why his sister occasionally talked about her ovaries exploding or melting, a statement that he usually greeted with irritation. Green eyes was cooing at the dog, who looked shy for such a solid-looking dog. The dog tentatively inclined his head forward, and green eyes bumped their foreheads together. The almost paternal affection from the man and the responsiveness of the furred creature was…surprisingly adorable. The name was stupid though. "His name is Puddle Jumper?"

"Nah, I'm just hoping he'll like to jump puddles. I used to run with a lab, she loved to splash in water. I always came home soaking wet." Hopefully the dog would actually like to run. The shelters were clearing out quickly, leaving mostly pit bull mixes and chihuahuas. The shelter workers had made it clear that John needed to make his choice quickly and from a limited section. Lingering was not allowed. He'd never been around chihuahuas much, but they seemed too small to be good runners. Simon looked like a dog who could keep up with him, and the adoption counselor said he was sweet and responsive.

A clerk came out from behind the counter, holding a tablet out with her gloved fingers on one side. "I've pulled up your record, Mr. Sheppard, and entered the dog's information. If you could review and confirm your intent to adopt?"

John took the tablet gingerly, careful to keep his fingers on one side and away from hers. He was still getting accustomed to being so careful about touching other people and things. "Sure. And call me John."

The tone of the clerk's voice was bright as she asked Rodney, "And are you done, Mr. McKay?"

Rodney wondered if she'd been smiling at John. Even with half his face covered, his green eyes and spiky dark hair were attractive, his body lean and lightly muscled. "Rodney," he answered. "Yes, all done."

"If you could—"

Rodney held the tablet out and she took it, quickly scanning the information.

"Hi Kaylee, it's time to go home." This time she allowed him to pull her off his shoulders, seeming to understand they were leaving. He cuddled her for a few moments in his arms, surprised to see John staring at him. "What?"

John shook his head. "Nothing. She looks like she's going to a good home."

The compliment was warming, and Rodney realized that though he had gotten a cat for his own purposes, to have some other living being in the house, he was going to give little Kaylee a good home, a place for her to roam with multiple nice spots for napping. "Thank you."

#

Rodney might not even have noticed the white car behind him, except that the roads were so eerily empty. With the state in lock down, most people were working at home, and not able to visit the mall or any other activity that they might do in the middle of the day. Cars were few and far between, except the white one that stayed with him all the way from downtown to midtown and finally into his neighborhood.

At a stop sign a block from his house, Rodney finally stopped the car, put on his mask and stomped out, stopping by the driver's window, and crossing his arms. The driver was indeed John from the animal shelter, as he had thought from looking in the rear view. "Why are you following me?"

John was surprised to see Rodney step out of the car in front of him, and as soon as he realized the other man was approaching him, hastened to pull his bandana up before rolling down his windows. Simon sat next to him on the passenger seat, but thankfully didn't seem inclined to leap out. The dog had been a little nervous during the drive, like he might not be too familiar with cars. Maybe there still would be a dog park open; John wanted Simon to associate the car with going to fun places. But first, he needed to get his new acquaintance out of his way home. "Is something wrong? We shouldn't be parked in the street like this."

"Oh, look around!" Rodney threw out his hands wide, swiveling his upper body toward one side and then the other. "No one else is coming. No one is on the road. They are all safe at home, where I would like to be, except you keep following me. Why are you following me?"

John had noticed that he'd gotten behind a slow driver and thought about going around him, but instead had let the leisurely speed give him time to look around at his new city. "I wasn't following you." Well, not intentionally. He didn't think Rodney would appreciate being told he drove like an old lady and was sloppy on turns. "I'm going home, that's all."

"And your house just _happens_ to be in my neighborhood?"

"It's on that street." John pointed to the street sign at the intersection, then slid his finger toward the east. His nerves were weirdly on alert. After two excruciating weeks all alone, having this guy be mad at him was somehow worse than the last time his commanding officer had screamed at him. At least then he'd been expecting it and felt completely justified in his actions.

Rodney crossed his arms and glared again. "You just happen to live on that street."

"Yes."

Rodney repeated John's gesture of pointing at the street sign then waving. "That street."

"Yes, really, that street. Two blocks over." Simon whined, as if not liking the tension, and John skritched him on the neck in reassurance. Rodney of the beautiful blue eyes and the faint Canadian accent was getting tiresome. "Can we get this settled so we can get home?"

"Yes, certainly, if you—" Then Rodney's face contorted with frustration as he realized where John may live. "Did you buy the old Neller place?"

"He wasn't old, but his name was Neller, yes. George Neller."

 _This_ was his new neighbor? "I didn't see you take a tour of it."

"We're in a pandemic. The real estate agent carried her phone around and showed me the place."

"You bought a house without seeing it in person?"

"We're in a _pandemic_ , so yeah."

"Everything okay, Doctor?"

They both glanced over at a woman standing on the sidewalk, maskless, looking concerned.

"Yes, everything's fine," Rodney said, not recognizing the woman and irritated that she wasn't wearing a mask. It wasn't required when out walking for exercise, but the government's inability to mandate the appropriate precautions didn't seem any reason to be stupid. Not that most people even needed a reason to be stupid; it was often their default setting in Rodney's estimation. "Why are you asking?"

"You're stopped in the street, Doctor. It's an unusual thing to do. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Yes, everything's fine," Rodney snapped, giving an exasperated look at John who stared back at him impatiently. At him, who had made a fool of himself by accosting someone who was legitimately driving home. "Welcome to the neighborhood," he huffed, before tromping back to his car, getting in and starting driving. Of all the coincidences, he and his new neighbor had rescued animals at the same time. That was probably the first and last thing they had in common. At least he planned to keep Kaylee as an indoor cat, so he didn't have to worry about the pit bull chasing her.

And how had that woman known he was a doctor? Who was she? It wasn't the first time someone had called him doctor in the neighborhood, but usually it had been one of his immediate neighbors. A few of them had introduced themselves when he moved in, so he knew he'd given his title then.

John began to follow Rodney, not incredibly surprised when he pulled into the driveway next door to his house. No wonder they'd driven the same route. He hadn't seen Rodney once during the two weeks of his quarantine, did the man never leave the house? He'd noticed the families around him, the adults gardening, kids playing. Hopefully Rodney would realize that their meeting at the animal shelter was only a weird coincidence, and not decide John was a stalker who'd deliberately bought the house next to him for better access to him. Rodney seemed uptight, his eyes irritated then disbelieving, his voice sharp as he'd approached John.

And apparently a doctor. A medical one? If so, hopefully his bedside manner was more like he'd been in the animal shelter. That Rodney had seemed like a very cool guy.

John left Simon in the car, then came around to the passenger side and opened the door slightly, standing in the gap and grabbing Simon's leash. He didn't think the dog would bolt or try to chase Rodney's cat, but didn't want to give him a chance.

Rodney already had a crate out and was carrying his cat toward his house. John gave a quiet, "Hey."

Pausing, Rodney looked at John, feeling oddly embarrassed at having made a scene at the intersection. He'd hoped to escape into his house before John was out of his car. "Yes?"

"Just wanted to say," John shrugged. "I'm glad to be here?"

"It's a good neighborhood," Rodney said stiffly. "I hope you like it." He didn't give John a chance to respond, walking briskly toward his front door, cursing under his breath at having to unlock the door then take the time to get the crate inside. Thankfully, John didn't say anything else.

John watched as Rodney marched into his house, putting the crate inside first before shutting the front door behind him. Wow, his ass in worn jeans was firm and luscious, and John would dearly love to cup it with his hands. The guy was probably straight though; John's gaydar was lousy. With the pandemic, it was unlikely they'd get much more opportunity to interact. He grabbed the small bag of pet supplies that he'd bought at the shelter, curling one arm around it, while tugging on the leash with the other hand. Simon followed easily, as the adoption consultant had promised. After shutting the front door behind them, John unclipped the leash. "Okay, boy, sniff around or whatever."

As if not understanding, Simon sat back on his haunches and looked up at John, tilting his head to one side.

"You want a guided tour, huh? Well, this is the living room. It has white walls and beige carpet because that's what sellers seem to think buyers want. And it's got no furniture because my brother's shipping some of my mom's to me and now we're in a pandemic and I don't know when it's going to get here." He wandered through the rooms, the dog staying at his side, seemingly mesmerized by his words as he pointed out the three bedrooms, the two bathrooms, the dining room, and the kitchen.

"You know what we need, Simon? I need a beer. You want some water, huh?" He pulled a bowl out of the dog supplies, running water into it and setting it down at one end of the kitchen, before getting himself a beer. Simon drank eagerly but a little messily, drops of water splashing on the floor.

"I guess I need to add a mop to my list, don't I? I bought what I had to have right away online, but I didn't want to put too much on the delivery guys." He sprawled on his bean bag chair, the one piece of furniture in his living room, with his beer and phone, adding mop to his lengthy list, checking back to make sure he'd deleted everything already ordered. Simon sat on his haunches and watched him, until John patted his thigh. Simon responded, still looking a bit hesitant as he flopped down on the floor, his head close to John's leg.

John petted Simon. "I've never had a dog. I never thought I was settled enough. I used to run with a friend's dog, that was sweet. I always wanted one as a kid. Didn't fit with our lifestyle according to Dad. Of course, drinking beer and sitting on the floor wasn't Dad's lifestyle either. A three martini business lunch is fine, just not—" He sighed, taking a long drink from his can before returning to his list. His dad was gone, his career with the Air Force was over. Now was the time to focus on this new beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

After two weeks of quarantine, sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor was getting old, and John was glad he'd broken down and ordered an air mattress online. Someday he would go camping. In the meantime, it made the nights more tolerable in his still mostly empty bedroom.

Having Simon provided an extra spot of warmth and comfort, as the dog had crept out of his dog bed sometime during the night and laid down by him, generating body heat and the feeling of a comfortable presence along one side.

"Pet food stores are open, we'll get you properly stocked up today," he promised Simon as he got up and stretched. The dog sat by the door, watching him, and gave a whine. "A bigger supply of food, some toys. Hey, we should get a frisbee. You like to play fetch?" The dog gave a yip of excitement and thumped his tail on the floor.

"I thought traveling with the Air Force could be complicated," he told the dog, walking down the hallway in search of coffee. "Moving in the middle of a pandemic is a whole other level of complicated. And weird." He opened the sliding glass door at the back of the house and stood aside. Simon immediately rushed out, running around the back yard, sniffing and lifting his leg. "Yeah, go for it."

"I keep talking to my dog," he told the coffee pot, another one of his 'must have even if it imposes a burden on the delivery drivers' purchases. "And now I'm talking to an appliance."

Simon gave a small bark from the other side of the sliding door, asking to be let in.

"You are a good dog, aren't you? Someone trained you. Maybe you weren't hurt, maybe you're sad your owner had to give you up," John said as he let the dog in. Simon didn't answer, other than his perpetual head tilt. "Let's take a walk, huh? Maybe I can talk to some neighbors."

The other neighborhood residents didn't seem that chatty though, John discovered as he walked Simon down to the local park. Nor did most of them wear masks, which he'd already noticed, watching from his house windows. He was tempted to pull down his bandana and go maskless too, feeling strange, as if he was the only one who hadn't got the dress code.

The walkers and joggers did at least obey the basic civility of not getting close, crossing to the other side of the street well before they got near John and Simon. John made sure to cross first when the approaching person was pushing a stroller. 

People did nod politely, or occasionally throw a "Hello" his way, but no one seemed inclined to make conversation. 

One result of no one getting close was that Simon's behavior around other dogs wasn't fully tested. He'd strained a few times toward dogs across the street, definitely aware and interested, but John tugged on the leash and he'd settled down. 

"I guess I'm still talking to you," John told Simon. "While we play this huge game of cooties with the neighbors." 

"War is hell, but a pandemic is limbo. And not like cool limbo dancing or even the limbo from Supernatural. At least there Dean got to fight for his life. Or was that purgatory? Either way, this is just—" 

Simon looked quizzically at him, as if he was waiting for John to say more, but John didn't know what else to say. He'd thought quarantining himself was hellishly dull, but he'd listened to his brother's nagging about the potential of infecting someone else. Being able to go out had seemed like a vast improvement, but it still was a far cry from normalcy. 

"Come on," he said, entering his house and taking Simon's leash off. "Back yard for you, shopping for me."

**#**

Getting a cat had been a brilliant idea, especially when it turned out Kaylee was truly as warm and wonderful as her namesake. Perhaps even too wonderful, as it turned out that her favorite place was on Rodney in some fashion or sitting in front of his monitor purring at him. "I do need to work," he reminded her, putting her down on the ground. "I have brilliant breakthroughs to make and I cannot see through you." 

Her alert green eyes studied him for a few brief moments, as if contemplating his words, and then she leaped right up, climbing on him to sit on his shoulders. 

Rodney decided it was time to take a break. Carson was always telling him to not sit for too long anyway. Coffee in hand and Kaylee cuddled on his shoulders, he wandered to the front window, staring out at the houses across the street. 

This was the pandemic, working from home, comfortable in his little bubble, the only view of his neighbors' houses. Rodney was accustomed to being somewhat isolated; as a genius who skipped multiple grades and spent most of his life focused on his studies, he hadn't fit in well with other kids while growing up. He'd managed to connect more with his co-workers, other scientists and academics, but still often felt awkward with them. Remaining at home hadn't seemed like it would be a hardship, but he found himself missing people at the university, casual chats in the hallway with other professors and staff, the sound and color of being around other people, even the daily pastry special at the university coffee shop. 

Classes were still happening. He did his lectures and had his office hours, answering what were generally stultifyingly dull or stupid questions with the occasional flash of intelligence from the more promising students, but all through the flatness of a computer monitor. 

John's car drove by and Rodney craned his head slightly to watch him park in his driveway and get out, beginning to unload an astonishing number of grocery bags, including one with a big package of toilet paper. 

His neighbor, John, was going out, shopping and finding toilet paper...Rodney gently pulled Kaylee off his shoulders and dropped her on a chair before grabbing a mask and rushing outside. "John!"

"Hey, Rodney." John stopped with grocery bags in both arms at his neighbor's approach. The bottom of Rodney's face was covered again, but his blue eyes were still as beautiful, especially now that they weren't angry. His mask was another cool one, another starscape but with a different pattern. It was good that John hadn't tugged down his bandana when driving home, so he was appropriately dressed for a conversation. "What's up?"

"You've been shopping." 

John dropped an amused look at the bags in his arms. "Yep." He thought about explaining he'd barely moved in and needed to do a major stocking up, but Rodney kept talking.

"I don't go out, and it's been difficulty getting delivery. I thought—" What had he thought? What did he have to offer John? "You found toilet paper!" 

"Yeah, the seller had left a few rolls in the house so I don't need it immediately, but I thought, it was there, I might as well pick up a package while I can. The news has been saying it's running out."

"You watch the news?" Rodney asked, horrified. "Local news?" 

Rodney was obviously not impressed with local news. John found his lack of a filter entertaining and was tempted to claim he loved local news, but honesty won out. "I've just relocated from another continent. I figured local news would give me a feel for this city."

Rodney couldn't remember the last time he'd watched local news. Certainly he hadn't thought to turn it on when he'd first settled here, having escaped Siberia for a professorship at the university. "Because you need puff pieces on the weather and the commute and...what does local news cover?"

"They're not actually covering the commute much these days, since no one's commuting." John shifted the bags in his arms. "I've got ice cream, can this wait?"

"I could—" Rodney started forward, arms spread, and stopped, grimacing. "I won't offer to help you." The instructions from the government on how to handle the pandemic had been woefully inadequate and sometimes contradictory, but Carson had confirmed the wisdom of wearing masks and social distancing, and if there was any medical doctor that Rodney trusted, it would be Carson. Not that he was ever likely to tell him. 

"Yeah, and I wouldn't accept. Thanks for the thought. I'll knock when I'm done?" 

"Yes, please." 

Stocking an entire kitchen with everything John could think he might want had filled the trunk of the rental car. Simon was waiting at the front door when John entered, and from the thumping of his tail, he was happy that John was home again. John put the bags in the kitchen, then dropped to his knees, spending a few minutes petting Simon and reassuring him he would always return before he headed out for more. Simon followed him back and forth from the front door to the kitchen, not trying to escape, content to stay inside as John went back and forth. At least he knew Simon wasn't a barker when left alone; if the dog had been annoying, he was sure those would have been the first words out of Rodney's mouth. 


	3. Chapter 3

The knock on the door startled Rodney out of his argument with Radek. The Czech was almost as intelligent as Rodney, but sometimes his ideas were flawed, so incredibly flawed, and he could be surprisingly resistant when being told so. Rodney peered out the window to see John standing on the walkway, bandana securely covering the bottom of his face. "Oh, right." He hunted for his mask, finding it partially under his keyboard. Face covered, he opened the door. Kaylee saw her chance and tried to make a run for freedom. Both Rodney and John lunged for her, Rodney successfully grabbing her around the middle. John's hands brushed against Rodney's bare arms as he scooped her up.

"Sorry." John immediately stepped away from him. "I washed my hands thoroughly before coming over." 

Rodney's skin tingled weirdly, and he wondered how long it had been since he'd touched anyone. Weeks, at least. "No, I'm sorry," he said reflexively. He was Canadian; he apologized. "Come in please. She either wants to be on me or outside. She keeps making a dash for the door when I open it." 

As Rodney backed into his living room, John entered and shut the door behind him. "Simon never tries to run away. He's a little passive. I hope he gets used to me soon. She still seems really happy with you," he added, nodding his head toward the cat, who had relaxed in Rodney's arms and was purring. 

"Yes." Rodney smiled at the cat. "Wait, Simon?" 

"Yeah, isn't that strange? That was the name the shelter gave him. It seemed to fit him. When you said Kaylee's name at the shelter, I wondered if one of the shelter workers was a browncoat."

"You know _Firefly_?" Good-looking and a _Firefly_ fan? How was that fair? 

John took a brief look around at Rodney's living room, which was mostly set up as an office, a desk with a computer, two huge monitors, and strangely, a white board filled with calculations. The only furniture appropriate to a living room was a couch. The scattered action figures and coffee mug with the Federation logo told John that they both had a healthy interest in sci-fi. "Possibly best sci-fi series ever. But you wanted something about my grocery shopping?"

"Yes, you've been grocery shopping." 

The wallpaper on one of the computer monitors was strange, showing a fellow with flyaway hair and gold-rimmed glasses. Was that the guy from _Wormhole_ _Extreme_? "Yeah, I moved in two weeks ago. I've been quarantining until yesterday. I had some things delivered but didn't want to put too much on the delivery systems. So I needed a lot of things." 

"And you found toilet paper." 

"Yeah, there wasn't very much of it. And there was a sign to only take two packs." 

"Did you take two?" 

"No, I didn't see the point." 

"You—" 

"I've got a pack of nine. That'll last me long enough for the supply chain to get going again. I figured I might as well let someone else have it."

"That's—pleasantly civil of you."

"Pleasantly?" John cocked an eyebrow at Rodney. "Do you think all Americans are grabby?"

"You say that like you know I'm not?" 

"Canadian, right? I can hear the accent." 

"You can?" Americans could rarely hear the accent. Maybe he'd even know that Canada wasn't all a frozen wasteland. Good-looking, a sci-fi fan, and not a complete idiot? How did such a man move next door? 

"Yeah." John shrugged, internally admiring how calmly Kaylee was staying in Rodney's arms during their conversation. Though Rodney's arms were full, cuddling her, his torso moved like he'd be waving his arms if he could. "You end up with a lot of time to sit around and talk when you're stationed in foreign countries. I've known some Canadians and Americans who partially grew up in Canada. You get to hear the difference." 

"Stationed? You're military?"

"Ex. Air Force. What?" John added, because Rodney's gaze was expressive as he glanced up and down John's body, his disbelief clear. Sure, John knew he was a little skinny, but being muscle-bound was hardly required for the modern military.

"You don't stand like you're military." 

John looked down his own body, trying to figure out what Rodney meant. How did he stand? "I wasn't a soldier, I was a pilot." 

"I've known Air Force pilots," Rodney protested, "and they don't stand like—" 

"Like what?"

Slinky, Rodney thought, but managed to bite the word back, that sense of caution he'd had to develop around some members of the military rearing itself. They weren't all like Jack O'Neill, who was much more inclined to roll his eyes than raise his fist. Jack might even have been willing to hear that Rodney was bisexual and not gotten paranoid, though Rodney had never risked it. "Anyway, the toilet paper. I am in need of toilet paper. The Insta-Cart hasn't been able to find any." 

"You're not going out shopping? At all?"

Rodney flinched a little, wondering if John would be like Jeannie, scolding him for exaggerating his health issues and endangering others. "No, I am not going out shopping. I have pre-existing health conditions. Thus, I am reliant on Insta-Cart and online ordering, and they haven't been able to find toilet paper. If you see more, could you please get me a pack? At least two-ply preferably, three if you find it." 

John could tell he'd touched a nerve and wasn't sure how to apologize. Though if the guy never left the house, it explained why John had never seen him, and why his grass was getting so long. "Sure. Do you need anything else?" 

"You're offering to get more?" 

"Why not? I'll be going out. It's not hard to pick up a few more things." He was definitely going out. Masked and careful and playing cooties with other shoppers, but he'd go crazy if he didn't get out of the house occasionally; two weeks of quarantining had taught him that truth.

Radek's gurgle of laughter startled Rodney, who had honestly forgotten that the other man was watching them from the monitor. "You do not know what you're asking. Rodney's demands can be exceedingly difficult and comprehensive." 

Rodney flushed, feeling stung by Radek's words, snapping at the screen, "Yes, we've finished our conversation, Radek. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Even as he moved toward the mouse, John said, "Oh hi," giving a little wave at the monitor, and Radek raised his hands to forestall being cut off. 

"Rodney, wait."

"Yes?" Rodney rocked back, petting Kaylee to relax himself. 

"You are the next-door neighbor with the dog?" 

John was startled for a second that the computer wallpaper was alive, but neighbors meeting at the animal shelter probably made a good story to tell a friend. Or co-worker? He wore a lab coat over a blue shirt, but John couldn't see any identifying logo on his clothes. "Yeah, I'm John Sheppard. Nice to meet you."

"Radek Zelenka. I'm a friend of Rodney's. You are new to the neighborhood and live alone?" 

"Yes," John said, but he looked at Rodney and raised his eyebrows, like 'why is this strange fellow interrogating me?' In response, Rodney frowned at Radek.

"Why are you interrogating him?" 

"You two should be a pod." 

'A pod?' John mouthed to Rodney, belatedly remembering that Rodney couldn't see his mouth.

"What are you rambling about?" 

"A pod. It is a thing that people are developing, a way to stay safe. You identify certain people that you will be around and avoid all others." Radek's gaze softened as he looked at Rodney. "You should have someone else around, Rodney, since you will not come back here." 

"I haven't been—" Rodney bit off the 'asked.' "I've learned my lesson from being banished to Siberia. I'm fine here." 

Siberia? Truly, or did his neighbor have a tendency to exaggerate? Oddly, John could believe either. He was a Canadian living in America with a friend with a Czech accent, there was some interesting backstory beyond living in suburbia. "It's not a bad idea, being a pod. I don't have any family here."

Rodney had thought the idea absurd, mainly because he doubted anyone would leap to connect with him better. John's instant acceptance gave him a warm feeling. "Oh—you would? Want to be in a pod?" 

"Yeah, why not? I don't mind doing the shopping, though if you had more masks like that one, I wouldn't mind snagging an extra. I haven't been able to find any," he said, waving at the bandana covering his face. 

"This mask?" Instinctively, Rodney touched the blue fabric. Still cuddled in his other arm, Kaylee purred harder. "My sister made it." 

"I'm sure Jeannie would be pleased to make another one," Radek inserted from the monitor. "She would be happy to know that you are not alone."

Jeannie was rarely happy with his decisions, though Rodney guessed that in this instance, Radek was correct. "Your participation is no longer needed, thank you Radek." This time Rodney did click the mouse, shutting the connection. 

"I like the fabric and it looks like it's double-layered? The government doesn't seem to know if we should wear masks or not, but we might as well, right? It can't hurt." Dave had taken it so seriously, he'd suggested John re-up so that he could stay at McMurdo. Given how little his family had supported his desire to fly, that had been the main thing to convince John to quarantine.

"Yes, we definitely should. For all that medicine is barely above voodoo, in this case, follow the science. Wear masks, social distance, wash your hands thoroughly, and don't touch your face." 

"So I guess you're not a medical doctor? That woman called you doctor." John asked, wandering a bit around the room, stopping at the whiteboard. He loved math, having done his degree in the field at Stanford, but these calculations were seriously complex. He itched to have the chance to study them. 

"No, I am definitely not a medical doctor. I have PhDs in Astrophysics and Mechanical Engineering. Look, do you really want to be in a pod with me?" Rodney braced himself for a no, or some sort of equivocating that revealed John had only pretended it was a good idea in front of Radek. After all, John could probably find other neighbors for a pod. 

"It makes sense. Why not? It would be nice to have one person that I don't have to wear a mask around. Hey, maybe we could have a pizza together occasionally?" As he spoke, John coaxed the bandana down his face, tucking the rolls of the fabric around his neck. If they were going to be in a pod, there didn't seem any reason to keep covered. Rodney hadn't even been leaving his house to shop, could anyone be safer? "Or something else? I've had a lot of pizza lately."

Rodney was mesmerized by the sight of John's bare face. His green eyes were beautiful, but now to see the rest of his face...his lips were perfectly shaped, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top. Both his nose and his chin were slightly pointed, his jawline strong. John cocked one of his eyebrows and Rodney realized he'd been staring too long. "Yes, eating together would be good. I have a lot of food delivered. I don't cook much." He bent to let Kaylee drop gently to the ground before taking off his own mask, and dropping it on his desk, bracing himself for John's reaction. 

"I'm not much of a cook either. I think I'd like to try more now, I've got lots of time." Rodney looked like he'd stopped breathing, like he was expecting to be hit or something, and John wasn't sure why. Maybe just the weirdness of being unmasked around another person? He was good-looking, his nose with a funny little tilt to the side, but an expressive mouth and firm chin. "I need to look for a job, but I can't do that all the time." 

"You're unemployed? Oh, yes, ex Air Force." What kind of profession did an ex-military pilot apply for? Security maybe? Fly for a commercial airline? 

"You're employed…" John glanced at the white board. "...at the university?" 

"Yes, I'm a professor, teaching astrophysics." Rodney doubted that John could understand anything on the whiteboard, and braced himself for an incredibly stupid comment, which was forestalled by the opening strains of the Imperial March from his computer. "I have class, I have to go." He waved toward the first bedroom, which he kept set up for lecturing.

"Sure. I'll come back tonight? We can have dinner? Pizza's good. Anything really."

Company. He was going to have company for dinner. This really good-looking man had invited himself over. No one had ever invited themselves to have dinner with Rodney. His brain stuttered for a moment, then refocused on the immediate task at hand, teaching undergrads, a task for which Rodney needed his patience as much as his focus. He'd think more about having John over later. "Yes, that sounds good." 

#

Simon was waiting by the door as soon as John opened it, and he knelt down, skritching him around the neck, petting the fur down his back. "Good boy. Guess what I did today, boy? I got us in a pod. With a cat lover." Had that been a good decision, to leap into a pod with Rodney? The scientist was mercurial and could be grumpy, but his vibrancy attracted John. His ass attracted him even more, and those lips, thin but expressive and flexible—John shut down that line of thinking. If this went badly, being neighbors would make everything doubly awkward. Focus on being in a pod, having someone that he could talk to like they were having a regular conversation. 

"Hey, gotta take some risks, right? It's not like I can take any others right now." 

**#**


	4. Chapter 4

Rodney had never minded when pets appeared in the tiny boxes featuring his students on his computer monitor. Really, the boxes were so small, he didn't pay much attention to them. If anything, teaching remotely made it less obvious when his students weren't paying attention, which was an advantage in Rodney's estimation. He hadn't anticipated how his students would react the first time Kaylee climbed up his arm and settled on his shoulders. Suddenly microphones were turned on and a whole chorus of voices was asking questions about her. 

"Oh, this is Kaylee. I got her from the local animal shelter," he said, feeling flustered, which led to a number of students complimenting him for adopting and not shopping, admiring Kaylee's tabby-striped beauty, and how happy she looked on his shoulders. He had often been admired for his genius, though it was usually with an undercurrent of envy. Being wholeheartedly admired for something so unrelated to his intellect was strange but pleasant; Kaylee deserved it. And of course, his excellent decision to visit a shelter and choose her. 

He was still feeling off-kilter when the class was over, the need to focus on teaching now outweighed by the stupidity of John just pulling his bandana down without further discussion if they were both safe. Though the government was still irresponsibly waffly over what measures individuals should take, Carson had called when things had become bad in New York, encouraging Rodney to push to work from home and offering to send masks. 

"Why can't you fix this?" Rodney had snapped, unnerved by the sudden outreach. 

"I know you don't have a lot of respect for medicine, Rodney, but it does take time to develop a vaccine."

"You've got—resources!" They were only on the phone line and Rodney knew better than to make more overt references to technology brought to Earth from other planets.

"Not really that many, and not that directly relate to this type of virus. I've provided all the help I can from my own research."

"But Sam—"

"Sam does everything she can, but she's only one person," Carson pointed out, both of them knowing Rodney was referencing the hand device that allowed Sam Carter to heal people. 

Rodney called his sister next, even while wondering if he'd made a colossal mistake. She was delighted he was in a pod, and willing to make masks for John, but sure he'd mess it up. Jeannie had her priorities in life: her husband, her daughter, and lecturing him. 

"I worked with the military for _years_!" he protested. 

"And they sent you to Siberia!" was her gleeful retort. 

"Jeannie will make you a mask," he told John, as soon as he opened the door that night, still irked at his sister for being herself and the entire SGC for not fixing the pandemic. "Several, she said." He didn't allow John to respond, crossing to his desk and opening the small drawer on top. He was in a pod with someone who had no issue with shopping during a pandemic, which was useful for Rodney but potentially risky. It was best to get his priorities and vulnerabilities expressed quickly and perhaps repeated often. "And this is my epi-pen. I'm allergic to all citrus. Any and all citrus. Do you know how to use one of these?"

John shut the door behind him, noticing that Rodney seemed to be in one of his uptight moods. Perhaps his afternoon class hadn't gone well? John's afternoon had been spent watching dog training videos on YouTube and taking Simon for a walk. The dog responded well to basic commands, which was perhaps unfortunate as it meant he'd be trained easily, leaving John with more time on his hands. John hated having time on his hands and he'd had too much of it lately. "Yeah, jab it really hard in the thigh. Massage the muscle. And call 911." 

"Oh. You do know." 

"Yeah, I've known some people with allergies. I'll remember to not bring home a lemon meringue pie. Or a key lime pie or grapefruit or kumquats," he added, to forestall any discussion of whether he knew different types of citrus. "Anything else I should know?"

"I have mild hypertension. That doesn't cause me any problems." Rodney's hands felt a bit clammy, though he was uncertain if it was the strangeness of having a person in his house for the second time that day, or worry that he'd mess things up with John. Other than Radek and Carson, people didn't tend to like him. John might be a risk-taker but he was incredibly good-looking and liked sci-fi, and Rodney hoped they could be friends. "Look, perhaps we should discuss this arrangement further." 

"Sure. Perhaps we should introduce ourselves more. My name is John Sheppard. I've left the Air Force where I was a pilot and am starting to look for a new job. I like dogs, Ferris wheels, college football, and anything that goes over 200 miles per hour. Cats too. Cats are good." Not that he'd been around cats much, but they seemed okay. "You give me a grocery list and I'll look for anything you need when I'm out. That good?"

Ferris wheels, football, and speed? He was in a pod with this person? Did he even want them to be friends? What did they have in common? "My name is Rodney McKay, I have PhDs in Astrophysics and Mechanical Engineering, I told you that. I'm Canadian…" John knew all those things, what else did he say? Rodney had done introductions at professional conferences, they always seemed incredibly banal, but what did he have to offer that was interesting to someone who liked rides and sports? 

"You like sci-fi," John prompted, because Rodney seemed at a loss for words.

"Everyone in Astrophysics does. That goes without saying." Kaylee wandered into the room, and paused at Rodney's feet. 

"Yeah, that's probably a requirement with science-oriented people." 

Rodney winced as Kaylee flexed her claws into his dockers, her subtle request for his attention. He tugged at her front legs and she walked right up his body before settling on his shoulders. "I have known scientists who believed in God. I've never understood reconciling a belief that God created the world in 7 days with understanding the big bang theory." 

"Yeah, that does seem a little strange. Still, there's a quote about intelligent people having the ability to hold two opposed ideas, right?" John admired how easily the cat made herself comfortable on Rodney. The man did have nice, broad shoulders. "So we don't have to wear masks around each other, but we keep them on with others. That's enough, right?" 

"You keep away from other people when shopping and if either of us shows symptoms, we get tested and we stay away from the other until we get a negative result." Rodney's stomach rumbled, louder than the cat was purring. 

"Sounds like it's time to order dinner," John said, not bothering to point out that testing wasn't available now. It wasn't likely to be an issue anyway; Rodney wasn't leaving the house and John wouldn't be stupid. 

**#**

In John's estimation, the rest of the evening has gone well. Rodney had several restaurants bookmarked and strong preferences, but John shared most of his tastes, and they settled easily on John running down to the local Italian restaurant to pick up an order rather than waiting for delivery. John skipped getting a dessert, but watching Rodney indulge in a tiramisu with many moans and licking of his spoon was an exercise in suppressing the blood flow to his dick. 

Conversation flowed easily; Rodney was amusing as hell when he got ranting, though a few abrupt stops and redirections when discussing his professional history, as well as the new calculations on the whiteboard, made John wonder how much work he did on side projects. Astrophysics didn't seem the right field for top secret work...maybe for NASA? Or even though he taught astrophysics, maybe his side projects were in Mechanical Engineering? 

After dinner, they ended up watching the first three episodes of _The Mandalorian_ , which Rodney was willing to rewatch and John had been wanting to see. Rodney made his obsession with Princess Leia and her gold bikini very clear, confirming John's guess that he was straight. They did agree that the Jedi were cool, and John didn't suggest debating whether Qui-Gon Jinn or Obi-Wan Kenobi was hotter. Despite the end of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, many members of the military were homophobic and John was too accustomed to simply not expressing some of his interests. 

The next day there was a knock on the door only minutes after John had come home, having returned the rental car and picked up a new truck, and John learned that Radek's prediction that Rodney could be demanding was accurate. 

"You have a new truck." 

"And hello to you too," John said, crossing his arms and legs, leaning in his doorway, blocking Simon from getting out. The dog gave a bark at the intruder, then subsided, sitting down behind John and watching Rodney carefully. 

"Why did you buy a truck?" 

"I wanted a truck. I returned the rental car and got a truck." 

"You went to two different businesses? How long did the salesman keep you hanging around the dealership? Did you spend hours being haggled?" 

John realized the anxiety behind Rodney's questions. "I did all the paperwork online, I wore my bandana over my face, and I stayed away from people. They've got a new pandemic process now, none of that getting jerked around by salesmen. It may be the one advantage to come out of this nonsense. I only needed to turn in the rental keys and pick up the truck keys." 

"Oh." The nervousness that Rodney had felt since looking at the window and seeing a new vehicle in John's driveway relaxed, though he also felt left out that John hadn't asked for help. "You could have asked me to follow you and drive you from the car rental to the dealership. We are in a pod now. It seems only fair that I help you."

"It didn't seem worth bothering you."

"It did mean that you were in a closed car with another person." Another person who had been working around a multitude of other people, though it was likely that car sales were dramatically down. How many people thought about a new car when sitting around their houses all day? 

"It's nice enough that I rolled down my window and I washed my hands well when I got home." 

"As long as you were careful," Rodney agreed grudgingly. "But seriously, you should ask me. I have lectures and office hours and an absurd number of hours spent in faculty meetings, but I do have free time during the day. Every day." 

"Thanks, I'll remember that. I'd also like to borrow your lawn mower and mow my lawn. Yours too if you want. And your hedge clippers." 

Rodney followed John's gaze over his front lawn, where the grass was indeed getting quite long and lushly green. "I don't have any." 

"None?" 

"No, I used to have a gardener. I paid him three months in advance and told him not to come when the lockdown started."

"So you're just going to...let your lawn grow until the pandemic ends?" 

"I hadn't thought much about it." His gardening had seemed the least of Rodney's concerns in getting through the days, living in his bubble in suburbia. 

"Okay...I guess I'm heading out to a garden store for a lawn mower and hedge clippers. I guess your backyard needs to be mowed too?" 

"Yes, I imagine so. I don't go out there. I should help pay." Rodney reached instinctively for the back pocket of his dockers, belatedly realizing that he hadn't carried his wallet since the pandemic started. With his credit card information stored in his computer for online ordering, he never needed his wallet, which remained on his dresser. "I need—"

"Don't worry about it. I was planning on buying a lawn mower eventually." 

"But—" Rodney hesitated, and then plunged on. "Can you afford it? Because I can give you my credit card, especially if you're going to mow my lawns." Which please, hopefully John meant that offer, because Rodney couldn't imagine much more boring than walking back and forth with a mower. 

"No, I'm good. How about you buy dinner every time I mow your lawn?" 

Did that mean John wanted to spend more time with him? Rodney liked that idea, having enjoyed the evening together. "Deal," he said, offering his hand, a little startled when John accepted it and they shook. John's hand was strong, his fingers slightly calloused but his skin soft. How long had it been since he'd shaken someone else's hand? Not since the pandemic started...maybe in January when the semester had started and there had been new faculty and staff at the university. Offering was an instinctive reaction that he probably shouldn't have made, there was no reason for them to touch unnecessarily, but he enjoyed the feel of John's warm hand against his skin.

#

"You are going to love this, aren't you?" Rodney crooned as he snapped Kaylee into the cat harness, still contemplating his conversation with Radek. Could he really have implied what Rodney had inferred? 

The complaint about Rodney not being asked back to the Stargate project had slipped out. He wasn't going to complain about his exclusion, he _wasn't_. If they didn't have the intelligence to ask him back, that was their mistake, and besides, having John next door, visiting regularly so they could watch sci-fi together was making the pandemic bubble much more bearable, even frequently enjoyable. Radek had pushed his glasses further up on his nose and had surprisingly asked if Rodney had ever seen _Yes, Minister_.

"A classic of British comedy and I'm Canadian? Yes, of course. Not that I watched the remake, some attempts shouldn't even be made. And?"

"I always like the episode where the minister gets advice from the former minister about how the bureaucrat would slip the most important report into the bottom of the boxes of many documents that the minister should read, so that the minister would never reach it."

"What are you talking about?" Rodney asked, completely baffled. Radek was occasionally known for sharing unusual stories, but over time Rodney had learned those stories were always relevant. Almost anyway. 

"Some people do not actually read as much as I think the minister even tried. Some people do not read anything unless it is easy, even perhaps with their name in it regularly. To get someone like that to avoid something, it would just have to be very dense text, have you noticed that?" 

"Talk about dense text," Rodney had snorted, to his embarrassment still not connecting the dots. "Daniel Jackson—" Daniel was excellent at writing for either dummies or absolutely incomprehensibly, everyone knew that. And knew that Jack knew that, and would have Daniel draft reports according to how much he wanted the IOA to pay attention. Could Jack really have kept the entire Stargate project under wraps for the last three years? No, he couldn't have, not unless whatever generals were over Jack cooperated. Rodney had never paid much attention to military structure. 

"Of course, it is also easier when things slowly diminish. Projects aren't begun, vacancies aren't filled, new contracts aren't signed. Things get overlooked, yes? I speculate, of course, but this is how it seems to be."

"Radek, are you—" 

Kaylee meowed, disturbing Rodney from his memory fugue. Confirmation of whether Jack had been hiding a top secret project would have to wait. For now, Kaylee was waiting and Rodney was hoping that she would be agreeable to being walked on a leash, anything to stop her attempts to get outside. She hadn't fought being put into the harness, which was a good sign. "Yes, you are a wonderful cat, aren't you?" He picked up the leash, but there was a knock on the door. "Yes?" he yelled, as he fumbled for a mask. 

"Rodney! I need your help." John banged again, knowing Rodney could need incentive to break away from whatever he was doing. "My furniture's here!" 

"Your furniture?" Rodney opened the door, seeing a small moving van parked outside John's house, a bored-looking guy resting against its side. "You're having furniture delivered?" 

"Yeah, it was my mom's. My brother had it shipped to me. It took forever. Come on, help me get it unloaded." John tugged at Rodney's elbow. 

Rodney pointed at the driver. "What about him?" 

"He's only paid for delivery to the door, not set-up." 

"Can't you just pay him more?" Rodney asked. Lifting heavy furniture was not exactly the best use of his abilities. 

John gave a sigh, not really surprised at Rodney's resistance. "He's driven from the east coast without a mask, do you really want him spending more time around me?" 

"Is he crazy? No. Make him go sit in the cab." 

"Thanks, we'll take it from here," John said as they walked over to the truck. "You can rest in the cab." 

"Sure, but you gotta sign the inventory sheet," the guy answered, wagging a clipboard at him, a gesture that provoked an immediate reaction from Rodney. 

"Are you kidding? You want him to sign a clipboard? With a pen?" 

The driver looked confused, but didn't fight Rodney's shooing motions, going to rest in the cab. Unloading the delivery van and getting everything into the house and organized in place took longer than it might have, since Rodney had gone back into his house, returning with a large packet of wipes, which he used on the clipboard and every single piece of furniture, but John appreciated that when Rodney got involved with a project, he didn't hold back. And there were some muscles in that sturdy body with its often bowed back, Rodney's shirt often riding up to show a flash of his belly. 

In the end, John's sleeping bag and air mattress were rolled up and tucked away in a closet, replaced by a headboard that matched the new dresser and nightstand, a table and eight chairs filled the dining room, a desk and bookcase were installed in the spare bedroom, and a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table were settled in the living room, a big screen TV mounted on the wall, and Rodney was setting up the new gaming system as John waved goodbye to the driver. Though furniture was hardly an interest of Rodney's, he could recognize quality antiques, certainly much better than the one bean bag chair they'd dragged out of the house and left on the driveway. 

"More paperwork?" Rodney asked, as John walked into the house, reading a piece of paper. 

"Hmm? Oh, a note from my brother." John smiled, reading his brother's scrawl, touched by the additions of the TV and gaming system. Shooting some bad guys sounded like a great way to pass some time. 

"Your brother just...gave all of this to you?" Rodney had to admit to some curiosity, which was of course an excellent trait to have, but not one that he usually directed at his neighbors.

"Most of it was mom's and had been stored away. My dad died recently and my brother's separating everything." John was still surprised that his dad had left them mostly equal inheritances. He'd always assumed that he'd been cut out of the will when he chose the Air Force. 

"All this time you've been living with one bean bag chair?" 

"Yeah, I found that with a free sign on the end of a driveway one day when I was doing my morning run. The TV and the gaming system were house presents," John added, touched at Dave's generosity. He and his brother hadn't been close for a long time, their differences beginning to separate them as teenagers. Dave thought John should conform to what dad wanted, but John stubbornly wanted to fly, and refused to prepare for a life spent as a businessman or lawyer. 

"My sister sent me a set of pots as a house present." With a snarky note that she hoped he would learn to cook rather than live off ramen and delivery for the rest of his life. "Oh! Jeannie." 

John smiled in bemusement as Rodney rushed out without saying more, sure that he had some sort of good reason, surprised when Rodney rushed back in and thrust a package at him. 

"Your masks. She included a note that she'd run out of the fabric that she used for mine, but I told her you'd been a pilot in the Air Force, she thought that you'd like these." 

The fabric was blue like Rodney's, but a lighter shade, and with different patterns of clouds as the design. "Nice. Please thank her for me." 

"Oh no." Rodney pulled out his phone and texted John. "I've sent you her email address, you can thank her yourself." For a moment, Rodney debated the wisdom of his action. Should he put John in touch with Jeannie? There was no way to know what she might say to him. Of course, that meant she would be busy emailing John rather than him, which was good.

"Sure." Dave's note said that he wasn't sure what kind of games John would like, but he'd included one golf game, hoping John would still like the game. John did, very much, which gave him thoughts about getting a set of clubs for when the golf courses reopened. He picked up the game box, waving it at Rodney. "Wanna play?" 

The idea of playing golf horrified Rodney. He couldn't imagine anything less interesting than walking around in the hot sun whacking a small ball, but still...at least playing in the living room meant he didn't have to worry about burning from the sun. It also meant spending more time with John, and he didn't have anything else to do, besides seeing if Kaylee would walk on a leash. "I've never golfed before," he equivocated.

John grinned. "I'll teach you." 


	5. Chapter 5

Rodney felt a little guilty when he returned home late that evening, having spent the rest of the day with John, playing golf badly and being thoroughly creamed by John, then sharing another meal with him, this time ordered from the local Chinese place, to find Kaylee leaping on him as soon as he walked in. "Poor kitty, we didn't walk." Kaylee was willing to forgive him, curling up in his arms and purring. "Tomorrow," he promised. 

John also felt a little guilty at having neglected Simon most of the day. He'd put him in the back yard when the delivery van showed up, letting him back in after the furniture was settled and before he started kicking Rodney's butt at golf. The dog had appeared content to lay in his dog bed and watch them, but it was the longest John had gone without paying attention to him. "Tomorrow, we'll take a good long run," he promised.

**#**

His neighbor was hot, but he was insane, completely insane. Rodney stared at John with horror. "You want me to what?" Rodney played golf with him on his gaming system, how could he want more? And especially this? 

Living next door to Rodney had taught John that he only needed to dig in his heels. Despite his tendency to complain or be horrified, Rodney was definitely persuadable. "Help me set up a weight bench in the garage so we can work out together." 

"I don't _work out_." 

"You should, it's good for you. And it's not going to be easy to get any other exercise until this pandemic ends." Especially since the pandemic was lasting much longer than anyone had ever imagined. John contemplated Rodney's figure. "You don't really seem the kind of guy to run." 

"Insulting me isn't the way—"

"I wasn't trying to insult you, I just meant you've got better shoulders for weights, your body type is more for power than speed." 

That seemed like a compliment of his body? "Oh." 

"Come help me set it up at least, okay? And think about working out with me?" 

The bench wasn't difficult to set up, just requiring a spare set of hands to make sure it was aligned properly before being screwed into the wall and floor. It came with several different accessories, extra weights for curls and an adapter for leg work. Rodney had never paid much attention to the mechanics of weight lifting, though he secretly admired the results. 

"This doesn't look like new equipment." 

"No, I got it used. Never pay full price for sports equipment, you can always find almost new stuff that's been barely used. Too many people pick it up and don't stick with it." Except for golf, which was too expensive for most people to try on a whim. John had promised himself new clubs. 

"You bought used?"

"Yeah, from someone in the neighborhood. I found it on the neighborhood Facebook page."

"I'm not sure what's truly more horrifying, you went to someone's house to buy used equipment, or you're on Facebook." 

Sometimes John was amazed that he was on Facebook, but those two weeks of quarantining had led to some weird desperations when trying to keep himself entertained and learning what he could about his new city. "Don't worry, I'm not getting sucked into stupid quizzes that reveal my personal information to hackers, but the neighborhood group is useful."

"There's a neighborhood group?" Rodney asked, not really caring, but John had sat down on the bench and was beginning a set of exercises where he pulled down the bar hooked to the top, his arms and shoulders moving smoothly up and down. 

"Yeah," John responded. "I told you, I quarantined because my brother flipped out at me traveling back from Antarctica. I got so bored, I even joined Facebook." He did 10 reps before getting up and bullying Rodney into taking a turn. Watching Rodney sit on the bench, hands curled around the rod, John realized he may have made a mistake, because watching Rodney sweating and straining while knowing he was straight was a painful delight. Even worse, Rodney was horrible at it, his posture completely wrong, his arms sticking out oddly, his shoulders hunched up. John tried to explain how to correct his posture, but ended up putting his hands on Rodney to get the point across as he spoke—"Tuck your elbows in," or "Your shoulders are hunched up again, keep them down"—which left him fighting down an erection. 

Then Rodney got better as they went through different exercises to work all the muscle groups, which was horrible in a new and unique way. John no longer had any excuse to put his hands on him, only had to watch as he took his turn, his slowly developing muscles flexing and stretching perfectly, a faint sheen of perspiration on his face. Exercise might be helping both of their bodies, but John wasn't sure it was completely beneficial for his blood pressure. 

**#**

Rodney stood in his front yard, wearing a red plaid flannel bathrobe, blue pajama pants, and his slippers, holding a cup of coffee as John and Simon came pounding up. The two were finally getting into a good running groove, which was great for his cardio health but not so much for his appearance, as it left him sweaty and panting. "Hey," he said, bending his knees and placing his hands on his thighs as he struggled to get his breathing under control. 

"You are running without a mask," Rodney accused, trying to ignore how good John looked, his skin flushed from his run, beads of sweat on his forehead. Was that how he looked when having sex? 

"Yeah," John agreed, registering Rodney's tone was very not happy. "It's not required for exercise. I don't get near anyone," he added quickly. 

"And what if something happens to you? If you trip and slam your head into the cement or get knocked over by a car?" 

John grimaced. "That's not really likely. I've been running since I was a teenager." Simon gave a soft woof of distress, and John gave him a rough pat with one hand. He'd run in places a lot more dangerous than this suburban neighborhood, but didn't think Rodney would find that persuasive. 

"Yes, said so many people before their first accident. That'll never happen; after all it never has. What if it does? And some concerned neighbor rushes over to help you, someone who isn't wearing a mask? If you're concussed, are you really going to say, excuse me, please come back when you've put a mask on?" 

"It's more difficult to run with a mask on," John complained, even as he knew Rodney had a point. Or even if he didn't have a point, even if it was really unlikely that anything would ever happen, he was no longer the only person who might be impacted by the consequences of his risks.

"I have, in case you weren't aware, worked with the military on a number of occasions, Army and Marines and Air Force. Believe me, I have been told so many times of the difficulties faced by the military. So many times." Admittedly, he had tried to avoid such conversations, but whether at Stargate Command, the Ancient base in Antarctica, or even in Siberia with Russian soldiers, he'd never completely escaped stories of the military's machoness. "Are you really telling me that it is too difficult to wear a mask to protect both our lives while jogging in suburbia?"

"Yeah." John sighed. "Okay. I will wear a mask in the future." He turned to go to his house, but Rodney caught his arm. 

"John. I'm not trying to nag you, but this is important. Our lives are at stake." 

"Yeah, I know. I just hate this, all of this." This whole pandemic should never have been allowed to get this bad, had gone on way too long, and John chafed at playing it safe. He placed his hand over Rodney's hand on his arm, squeezing. "You're right, okay? I'll wear a mask." 

"Thank you, John." 

**#**

John was getting scarily involved with _Wormhole Extreme_. For all that it was based on a mediocre sci-fi series that hadn't lasted very long, the detail that had gone into its development was impressive, with a large selection of planetary backgrounds, multiple characters to play, both human and alien, and interesting missions. 

Motion in his periphery vision attracted his attention. Rodney was standing in his living room, arms crossed, glaring at him. "Oh hey," he said, pulling off his headphones and pausing the game. 

"There is noise," Rodney announced. "Also, your door was unlocked." 

Now that his ears were bare, John could hear the sound of music. Really loud, really mediocre music. "Yeah?"

"It is too loud to be someone's sound system, which means it is—I don't know what it is. You should explore it and get it silenced." Rodney had been raised on classical music and had played piano for several years. Though he'd given it up when his teacher said that he didn't have enough passion, his ear for music was perfect. Bad rock music played too loudly was worse than nails on a chalkboard.

"Why me?"

"Because you are the one going out and exploring." 

"I'm the one shopping, I don't think that means I'm the designated explorer," John disagreed, even as he got up and grabbed the mask he kept by the door. "You can come too."

"I don't—"

"You brought your mask. Come on, it won't hurt you to walk toward it." He caught Rodney by the forearm and tugged him out of the house, shutting the door behind him with a "Stay, Simon" directed at the dog. 

"You're not going to lock the door?"

"We won't be going far."

John's carelessness was foolish, but Rodney decided against remonstrating with him. He was going with Rodney to investigate the loud noise, which was the immediate need, and his occasional carelessness with locking his door meant Rodney hadn't had to pound on it to get his attention. They walked several houses down the street until they could see a band of four people on one of the driveways, playing music. A crowd of people were gathered loosely around them. Most of them weren't especially close to each other, spread out over the two closest lawns and the sidewalk, with more people across the street, but almost none of them wore masks. 

"These people—" Rodney tensed, and started to step forward, ready to storm over to the musicians and yell at them, but John placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. 

"You're not going to get them to shut down, you're just going to get into an argument with stupid people." 

"Stupid people deserve to be told that they're wrong!" 

"So write them a letter and drop it in their mailbox tomorrow. You get angry at whoever set this up with this crowd around, a bunch of people will get close to you and argue with you. Even with a mask, you want this many people breathing on you?" 

John was likely right; Rodney had never known anyone to simply accept his wisdom and do what he demanded. That didn't make this carelessness any easier to ignore. "I can't block it out. It's too loud."

"Hey, you ever played _Wormhole Extreme_?" 

"Played... _Wormhole Extreme_?" 

"It's a game. I've gone as far as I can as a single soldier, but you can do other missions with more people." 

John dragged Rodney back to his house, pushing him down to the couch. Though Rodney claimed to not know the game, he picked up the rules quickly, with a bizarrely intuitive grasp of how to be successful on missions. 

"You're really good at this," John said, coming back with more beers.

I've read the mission reports, Rodney wanted to say, but even late at night and slightly buzzed on alcohol, his restraint on confidential government matters was well developed. "I am a genius," he blustered.

"Yeah." A genius who looked adorable, who looked like he belonged, sprawled on John's couch, a controller held loosely in one hand, a beer can in the other, his hair slightly tousled, blue eyes bright even though his face was soft with late-night weariness. The dreadful cover band had long since stopped, leaving everything quiet, like it was just the two of them, trapped in their little suburban bubble. Without thinking, John put his can on the coffee table and leaned forward, his lips landing lightly on Rodney's, inviting him to a soft kiss. 

John was kissing him, that was unmistakably a kiss, and Rodney stiffened in shock for a moment, then responded, his lips caressing John's in return. 

The moment of panic was so fleeting that John barely noticed it, and then Rodney was responding with a hesitancy that was rapidly becoming more confident. John had been impulsive and slightly buzzed, but the need had been long simmering, developing since John first saw Rodney being happy at the shelter. John groaned, one hand cupping the side of Rodney's neck as he deepened the kiss. 

Being touched like this, lips on his, a body angled over his, torso pressing him down into the couch...it had been too long. So long, all the isolation and separation only broken up by Zoom calls, Kaylee, and John's visits. Rodney wrapped his arms around John's back, hauling him closer while thrusting his tongue into John's mouth. 

John's voice sounded husky to his own ears when he broke away to speak. "You want this? You really want this?"

"Want what, sex with you? Yes, definitely. I would have had sex with you the first day we met, if you had asked. I assumed you were straight."

"No, I'm gay. I thought you were straight," John protested, even as his dick told him to stop talking and drag Rodney to his bedroom. "You talk about women all the damn time."

"Bisexual actually. I do like women, but you—I definitely like you."

Something relaxed within John because yes, really, his stupid impulse was paying off. Acting always worked better for him than thinking. He slid one hand under Rodney, cupping his firm, luscious ass and squeezing. "I wanted this gorgeous ass the first time I saw it." 

"I'm more than my ass," Rodney complained, but really? No one had ever wanted him for his ass before, or if they had, they'd never said so. Rodney found the sentiment flattering. 

"Yeah, I want the rest of you too. I want—everything." John stood, pulling Rodney up. "That good?"

"Even though we're in a pod, there's still the issue of—"

"I've got supplies. This was only supposed to last a couple of months, I thought I might as well."

Rodney beamed and pulled John toward his bedroom. John resumed kissing him as they walked, also running his hands up and down Rodney's back, and Rodney had to return the kisses and touches, the walk becoming more of a stumble until they fell onto John's big bed. 

Finally, finally, finally, was the mantra John's mind fixated on, until they were sprawled on his bed, hands busy with removing clothes, and Rodney's soft, pale skin was revealed. "I knew that," John said with satisfaction, his mouth latching onto one of Rodney's pink, pointed nipples, sucking and tonguing. 

"Knew what?" Rodney gasped, delighted at the attention John was paying his nipples even as his dick hardened, demanding a share. 

"That you'd have beautiful nipples to go with that ass," John growled, even as he switched to kissing down Rodney's torso, following his faint treasure trail. He slid off the bed, landing on his knees between Rodney's legs, which were dangling off the bed. Rodney's cock felt good in his hand, hot and hard, and even better in his mouth. 

Rodney gazed down at John with wonder, the other man completely absorbed in giving him the best blow job of his life. They hadn't even made it fully onto the bed or undressed, but John was destroying his mind, caressing his dick, licking stripes down it, sucking it into the hot cavern of his mouth. Rodney buried his hands into that ridiculously spiky hair, which felt soft. John either used very expensive product or had been telling the truth when he said he didn't use anything. 

This was wonderful, so amazing, having Rodney's dick filling his mouth, tasting the pre-come leaking from the head. Rodney wasn't moving, his only reaction a series of gasps and moans as he let John do whatever he wished and that receptiveness was best of all. He'd needed this, craved this, being surrounded by Rodney's thighs and his musky smell, focused on making his big genius brain explode as he milked his dick dry. 

"John, I'm going to—" Rodney tried to warn him, but John only made a hungry moaning sound in the back of his throat. Too soon, Rodney reached a point where he couldn't stop himself, his orgasm racing through all the nerves in his body, his come shooting into John's greedy mouth. "Oh god, you're swallowing," he whimpered. 

Blissed out was a good look on Rodney, John decided as he stood up. The other man was laying on top of the covers, muscles relaxed, dick limp. John hadn't managed to get his jeans all the way off, so he kicked them away before reaching for the condoms and lube. "You good with this?"

At this point, Rodney thought he'd be good with anything. He twisted around in answer, raising to his hands and knees and crawling into position in the middle of the bed. "Like this?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. 

"Fuck." John squeezed his dick hard. 

"Is something wrong?" Rodney asked, momentarily nervous. 

"Something way too right," John answered, putting a knee on the bed and swinging into place. He smoothed his hands over Rodney's ass, all round and firm and eminently squeezable, almost sorry that he hadn't jerked off while blowing Rodney, because he wanted to spend a good long time appreciating this masterpiece. Making himself wait was going to be a delicious torment. "This is the best thing to happen all year."

Rodney grabbed one of the pillows, resting his head sideways on it, cuddling it in his arms, and agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

Rodney woke, his body feeling heavy and lethargic, weirdly sore in places, but good. He was on his belly, his head smashed into a pillow, arms along his sides. He opened his eyes, blinking. There was a dresser in his vision but it wasn't his. He reared up abruptly, bringing his arms under his chest, memory returning in a kaleidoscope of pleasure. John kissing him, blowing him with an eagerness that Rodney had never experienced. His hands stroking, caressing, fingers pushing into him—

He broke the train of thought, twisting to one side, searching the room. John hadn't stayed in bed but had left him to wake up alone. His clothes were draped over the dresser. What did that mean? Was he supposed to dress and get out? Had he done something wrong, not been good enough? Was this the end of a beautiful pod? 

Simon came running in, straight up to Rodney, and started licking his face. Rodney rolled to his back, getting tangled in the sheets, pushing the dog away, uttering a series of "No!"s. 

John raced after the dog as well as he could with two cups of coffee, sitting them down on the nightstand before grabbing Simon's collar. He'd intended Rodney to wake up to his kisses, not his dog's. "Simon! Bad dog! Sit!" 

The dog stopped molesting Rodney and obediently sat, allowing Rodney to prop himself on one elbow, wiping at his face with the other hand. John was standing by the bed, wearing only his blue boxers. It was a good look on him. "John?"

"Hey." Sitting on the edge of the bed, John cupped Rodney's face with one hand, giving him a gentle kiss on his lips. "Simon needed to go out, I thought I'd be back before you woke."

John hadn't meant him to wake up alone. Rodney felt a ridiculous rush of relief. "You brought coffee."

"You seemed like you'd want it first thing in the morning."

He did, he totally did, but did that mean—"You want to drink coffee in bed?"

For such a genius, Rodney seemed a little slow to process, but then, he did better with academics than human relationships. John didn't mind. He hoped he'd have many years with Rodney to help him get a clue. "That wasn't really what I was hoping to do in bed, but I thought _you_ might want coffee first."

Rodney felt his dick start to harden at John's words, but he had another pressing concern beside caffeine. "I really need to—um. First." He waved toward the bathroom.

John gave a little chuckle, standing and pushing his boxers down his legs, tossing them at the hamper as he rounded the bed to get in on the other side. The covers were in disarray, but he shoved them to the bottom of the bed before getting in and lying on one side, propping himself on one arm, fist against his temple. For good measure, he reached over Rodney to grab one of the coffee cups, bringing it back to his lips for a small sip. "If you don't want the dog to watch, you should leave him outside the bedroom."

Rodney may have heard himself give a small whimper as John arranged himself like a naked Playgirl bunny, clearly ready for Rodney to take care of necessities and hurry back for sex. More sex after last night's sex, so yes, he must have done it right. And John wanted more, which Rodney totally did too. 

The sight of a naked Rodney in his bed, staring enraptured at him, was an extremely pleasant one that John wanted to see many more times. But right now, he was ready to move proceedings to the next event. Taking another sip of coffee, he smoothed his tongue along his top lip and then the bottom, leaving them wet and gleaming. 

John's tongue licking his own lips, like he was ready for a feast—Rodney leaped out of bed. He'd mostly ignored Simon, letting John take care of him, but now he grabbed his collar forcefully. "Simon, come."

**#**

Rodney didn't want to move, possibly ever again, his mind blown by not only what he and John had done together, but by John's eagerness. Someone this hot being so incredibly into him? How had he gotten so lucky? 

Then Simon gave a woof from the other side of the bedroom door and John groaned, beginning to sit up. "I need to feed him." 

"Kaylee!" Rodney bolted upright, staring in horror at John. "Kaylee! I've left her alone all night!"

"She's a cat, she'll be fine." 

"I have to check on her." Rodney scrambled for his clothes, tugging them on despite his body being less than clean. "I'll be back. Should I be back?" 

John stopped Rodney by cupping one cheek with his hand, giving him a fast, possessive kiss. "Yes, or I'll come over there." 

Rodney beamed, grabbing his shoes, carrying them out and hurrying over to his house. Everything seemed okay inside, though he noticed every single one of the action figures that normally dotted around his desk were now on the carpet. "Kaylee?" The cat looked up inquisitively from one of her favorite perches on the back of his couch and yawned. "You're okay!" He scooped her up and dropped to sit on the couch, cuddling her. She curled into his neck and purred. 

John took care of Simon and then a quick shower, but Rodney still hadn't returned. "You know what Simon? I think it's time you two meet." He refused to worry that Rodney hadn't returned because something had happened to Kaylee, that was the sort of doom spiral that occasionally captured Rodney. 

The other house was unlocked, Rodney looking like he was drifting in a dozy nap on the couch with Kaylee in his arms. 

"Hey." John spoke softly, touching his arm. He wasn't surprised that Rodney had fallen asleep after such a good workout. "I brought Simon." 

"You—" Rodney jerked up, holding onto Kaylee, but she wasn't hissing at Simon or fighting to be free. 

"I thought I'd make breakfast while they get to know each other. You got bacon and eggs?" 

As if to distract him from the horror of a dog sitting in his living room, Rodney's stomach rumbled, reminding him of how much energy he'd expended. "He'll chase her!" 

"Nah. You're a good dog, aren't you Simon? Or I could make pancakes."

Rodney was torn, a home-cooked breakfast that wasn't getting cool from the delivery time versus the concern that Simon might harass Kaylee, a concern that was lessening as Simon stayed in one place, tongue lolling out of his mouth. "Either's good, but what if he—" Then Rodney clutched Kaylee tighter as Simon moved, only the dog rolled to his back, wiggling on the floor and waving his paws in the air. Kaylee pushed out of Rodney's arms, leaving him grabbing at air, walking over to Simon and kneading him, with her paws on his belly. 

"Now that," John said with satisfaction, "looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship." 

**#**

"Do you really want to do this?" 

"I really do." John grinned at Rodney. "You know it'll make your sister happy."

"Not that I live to make her happy," Rodney grumbled, but conceded the point. He really shouldn't have given Jeannie's email to John, but how could he have guessed that they'd bond over the internet? At least Jeannie was being nicer to Rodney. He made sure his grip was tight on Kaylee's leash. There were people in the park, but thankfully not too many, and scattered around. Also, many of them were wearing masks, time and the increasing severity of the pandemic finally getting through to people. Rodney cast a critical eye on a few small groups, who didn't look like they would be a family pod. "Those three young women are not sisters."

"Perhaps they are a pod of sorority sisters at the university. International students who couldn't get home," John suggested, glancing around for the photographer, catching sight of a man with a large camera dangling around his neck. He raised a hand and waved.

Huh. Three sorority sisters, stuck together, isolated—once upon a time, Rodney could see that as an entertaining fantasy. But now he had John. John who was casually dressed in a T-shirt, jacket, and dockers covering his extremely hot body, a body he loved to share with Rodney. Who needed fantasies when he had John? 

"I'm John Sheppard and this is Rodney McKay." John spoke louder to compensate for the six feet of distance. 

"You really do walk your pets here," the photographer said, shaking his head in bemusement even as he knelt, lifting his camera and beginning to frame his picture. "I've never seen a cat walked on a leash."

"Kaylee is an amazing cat," Rodney said, proud as always of her. 

John snorted. Kaylee was an amazing cat, but she did have an uncanny ability to find a space right between them while they slept. John often woke up with his face pressed to soft cat fur rather than Rodney's stubbled cheeks. At least she never hissed or scratched when he picked her up and gently dropped her off the bed so he could kiss Rodney awake. By the time Rodney was functioning, she was always tucked into Simon's side. "What do you want us to do?" he asked the photographer.

"Just stand like that, each of you holding your pets' leashes. So they both get along?"

"Fabulously. They walk together, play together, even sleep together," Rodney burbled to the photographer. "Whenever I get up in the morning, she's curled on top of Simon in his dog bed."

"I'd love a picture of that."

"We've taken some. I can email them to you," John offered. 

"That would be great." The photographer kept snapping more pictures. "And I understand you're both professors at the university?" 

John couldn't help but grin, remembering Rodney's agitation when he'd hammered on his front door, demanding to know why John hadn't told him he'd applied at the university. The dean had broken the news, realizing that they lived in the same neighborhood and asking Rodney to help get John set up. "Yes, I've just started with the Mathematics department. Rodney's in Astrophysics." 

"I still can't believe we're taking part in a neighborhood project to document life during the pandemic, a project you found on Facebook," Rodney said sotto voce. "Facebook."

"Facebook has its uses." Only the two, as far as John could see, appalling Rodney and keeping in touch with neighborhood activities. "You know it'll be nice to have these pictures."

"Yes," Rodney conceded, though grudgingly. They'd taken several selfies together, John's slightly longer arm usually holding out the phone, but it would be nice to have at least a few full body pictures before the pandemic ended and they could hand a camera to a friend without risking a germ attack. "Jeannie will like them."

"Dave too."

The photographer had stopped taking pictures and was checking them on the display. "I think that's good. I'll email them to you."

"Thanks again," John said. They didn't shake hands, all of them giving little waves before the photographer wandered toward the three young women. Rodney was watching them again, and John wondered if he still struggled a bit with truly acknowledging his bisexuality after so many years of presenting himself as straight. It didn't bother John if he did. John was perfectly willing to put in the time and effort to help Rodney be confident in his new view of himself. "You know, we've never had sex in the middle of the afternoon."

Rodney's thoughts had strayed again to sororities, but John's casual statement brought him instantly back to memories of John and himself. Memories, not fantasies. "No, we haven't," he managed to say, his voice suddenly dry.

Hiding his grin, John turned toward home and started walking, pleased that Rodney fell immediately into step with him. John waggled his eyebrows at Rodney. "It's Saturday, we have no commitments and can't go anywhere."

"I am a scientist and a great believer in exploring new things," Rodney said. Though Rodney had never been fond of the sun, being too fair and burning too easily, the thought of seeing John fully naked, all that gorgeous skin lit by sunlight seemed like the best thing ever. And John's bedroom was at the back of his house, they could open the curtains without fear of anyone seeing in.

"I'd suggest that whoever got home first got to choose position, but—"

"No fair! You're a runner. And Simon is a dog and bigger than Kaylee."

"Agreed. So I thought maybe we could just talk about it as we walked and offer suggestions and agree on something. So we've got a plan when we get home." John was very pleased with his idea, and even more pleased with the way Rodney's eyes had begun to dilate, his breath quickening more than the walk could justify. Yeah, Rodney was _his_ now, and John was keeping him.

With that plan, Rodney wasn't going to be ready when they got home, he was going to be on the verge of explosion. And then they would have mind-blowing sex and take a nap, muscles loose, bodies entangled. Get up eventually and John would let Simon out before they'd bicker about dinner, delivery or leftovers or maybe John cooking, an activity he was slowly learning. And after dinner, they'd watch a movie or some tv—now that they'd finished _The Mandalorian_ and both seasons of _Umbrella Academy_ , John was pushing for a rewatch of all the Treks, or at least the best episodes—and then go to bed and have sleepy sex.

Simon and Kaylee were walking in front of them, Kaylee's tail occasionally drifting to brush against Simon's fur. Adopting her had seemed like bliss to Rodney, the perfect little cat companion to be with him. But this—her and John and Simon, but mostly John—this was true bliss.

"Hey, you okay?" John asked, feeling a little concerned and miffed, because Rodney seemed to be occupied in his own thoughts, not responding further.

"Me on my back, my dick in your ass. Your bedroom, so we can open the curtains. I want to be able to watch you fuck yourself on my dick in the sunlight. And if you get home first, start lubing yourself up." Rodney used his best 'I am the professor and this is when your papers will be due, don't give me any hassle,' voice, because not only was that what he wanted, he couldn't imagine settling for anything else.

John heard the decisive tone in Rodney's voice and thought about that image. He'd wanted to be in Rodney's ass as soon as he saw it, but lots of leisure time to experiment, no distractions, and a mind as curious as Rodney's had made him appreciate activities he'd only idly contemplated. Giving Simon a whistle, he started running.

The end 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's up, with a whole day to go! Thank you to the Romancing McShep mods for organizing the Reverse Bang challenge, and especially for extending the deadline, and to Brumeier for her lovely art.


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